


Emo Enchanted

by Arya_Skywalker



Category: Ella Enchanted - All Media Types, Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Abusive Stepfather, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Crying, Curse of Obedience, Fairy Morality | Patton Sanders, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Remus and Virgil are step-brothers, Slavery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 22:28:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29089806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arya_Skywalker/pseuds/Arya_Skywalker
Summary: Virgil was given the “gift” of obedience as a baby. He needs to seek out his fairy godfather Remy in order to lift the curse. Shenanigans ensue.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders
Comments: 6
Kudos: 28
Collections: TSS Fanworks Collective





	1. Makeover

**Author's Note:**

> This AU is a mix of the Ella Enchanted book and movie, as well as Sanders Sides and some original twists. As with the movie, there will be some... historical inaccuracies. 
> 
> (Another old fic from tumblr that I’m porting here and plan to update in the near future)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus and Virgil prepare for a royal visit and almost bond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only Virgil and Remus in this chapter. More characters will be added in future chapters.

“Virgil!“ Remus screeched. “Come here now!”

Virgil clenched his jaw, just barely preventing the curse from dragging him at some ungodly speed. As long as he made an effort to obey, usually he could avoid unpleasant side effects. Usually. So he jogged to his step brother’s room. “What do you want now?”

Remus threw a bundle of clothes at him. “I need to look presentable for our royal guests!” He bounced on his heels.

Virgil caught the clothes and set them on the bed with a sigh. “You’re old enough to get dressed yourself.”

Remus stuck out his tongue. “Lace me up, buttercup!”

Virgil wrinkled his nose, then walked over. “How tight do you want it?” By now he was used to the fact that Remus insisted on wearing a corset. Why? He didn’t want to know.

“Tighter!” Remus sucked in a deep breath. “Tighter tighter tighter!”

Virgil pulled it as tight as he could, smirking slightly. “Hurt yet?”

Remus held up his hand, twisting to see his reflection in the mirror. His face was turning purple.

“If you faint, it’s your fault, not mine,” Virgil said dryly.

“Mmmpf!” Remus gestured vaguely to loosen it again.

Virgil rolled his eyes and did so. It took another hour before Remus was happy with his appearance— after trying on multiple outfits and painting his face.

“Good. Can I leave now?” Virgil asked, wiping the sweat from his brow.

Remus hummed and turned to face him with an expression that only meant trouble. “Let’s go to your room! You need a makeover too!”

Virgil stifled a groan, but didn’t argue, leading the way to his tiny room. He used to have Remus’s room. Until he was kicked out. Now he lived in a glorified closet. “Okay, we’re here. Now what? Do I dare ask what kind of look you’re going for today?” Sometimes Remus reveled in making him appear to be the lowliest servant. Other times Virgil was his living doll for outlandish fashion. Virgil couldn’t decide which was worse.

Remus giggled and ransacked his wardrobe, throwing clothes around the room. “The prince and the king are coming! You need to look presentable,” he said.

“Okay.....” That meant not a servant. But if Remus wanted to make a good impression, maybe it wouldn’t be too embarrassing. Virgil sighed and sat on the edge of his bed, inspecting his cracked uneven fingernails.

“You’re too skinny for a corset. Puffy sleeves would get in the way. So......” Remus whistled. “Oooh what’s this?” He held out a black tunic with purple embroidery and laced sleeves. It was worn and old fashioned, but good quality.

“That was my father’s! Please—“ Virgil shot to his feet.

“Your father’s? You don’t talk about him much. Tell me one thing you hated about him. No one’s perfect.”

Virgil flinched. “I....” The curse clawed at his mind, bringing up bad memories that he wished he could forget. He swallowed. “He.... could be strict, sometimes,” he mumbled.

“Strict like my daddy?” Remus asked, walking over and tugging Virgil to sit back down with him.

“No. Not.... not like that. He never hit me,” Virgil said, biting his lip. “He just.... had high expectations that I feared I’d never fulfill.” He laughed harshly. “And look at me now— a slave in my own house.”

Remus was silent for a moment. Which could be a good or a bad sign. When he spoke again, his voice was softer, “Tell me something you loved about your father.”

Virgil wiped his eyes. “He always knew the right thing to say. When I was upset, he’d hold me. He wouldn’t tell me to stop crying. He wouldn’t say that crying was a girly thing. He’d tell me that my feelings were valid, that there was nothing wrong with how I was reacting.”

Again, Remus was quiet. Then he stood. “We’re gonna make your daddy proud!”

Virgil blinked. “We.... what?” He stared at his older step brother. “Since when do you care?”

Remus grinned like a Cheshire Cat. “Two minutes ago,” he said, then grabbed Virgil’s arm and yanked him to his feet. “Change into the tunic!”

Virgil automatically started changing, almost grateful to the spell for guiding his body through the motions. Otherwise he would have stood there gawking like an idiot.

Remus walked around him and helped lace up the tunic, then shoved him in front of the mirror. “It’s a start,” he mused. “Wait right here! I’ll be back!” He grinned and ran back to his room.

Virgil opened his mouth to protest, feeling the curse root him in place. Then he sighed and looked at his reflection, sweeping his bangs out of his face. The tunic did fit, although the sleeves were a little long. _I’m sorry, dad.... I wish I could make your proud but I’m just... me._

Remus burst through the door and threw something on the bed. “Sit on the bed, close your eyes, shut your mouth, and don’t move until I say so!”

Virgil stifled a yelp, then did so, trying and failing to catch a glimpse of what Remus brought with him before closing his eyes and going still as instructed. A brush tickled his face. _Oh_ _no.._.. The spell stopped him from sneezing.

Remus hummed as he worked, oblivious to Virgil’s apprehension. After a little while, he pulled away. “Open your eyes! Go look in the mirror!” he said excitedly.

Virgil took a deep breath, then did so, pleasantly surprised that Remus hadn’t overdone it. Dark eyeshadow and a hint of mascara, a dusting of silvery powder, and burgundy lipstick. He sighed in relief. “Thanks... I guess,” he said.

Remus giggled, bouncing up and down. “We’re not done yet!” He took a swath of black satin and draped it over Virgil’s shoulders, clasping it with a skull brooch. Then he attacked Virgil’s hair with bobby pins and fancy combs.

“Owww....” Virgil muttered. “What are you doing to my hair?”

“Don’t take any of it off until after our guests leave,” Remus ordered. “Gotta keep your hair out of your pretty eyes!”

Virgil groaned. “Are you done yet? What will your father think of you dressing up the family slave?”

Remus pouted. “You’re my brother! You’ve got noble blood in there.... somewhere... so you should show it off!”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Whatever. You’re a dork.” Remus only giggled.

“VIRGIL!” His stepfather shouted from downstairs. “You were supposed to be in the kitchen an hour ago!”

Virgil winced. “Duty calls,” he muttered, saluting to his brother before trudging down to the kitchen.


	2. Like Father Like Son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil helps Patton in the kitchen, and they have a nice chat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Patton and Virgil in this chapter. And a jerk OC. 
> 
> TW for this chapter: abusive stepfather, food mentions, crying

Virgil trotted to the kitchen. “Sorry I’m late! Remus was being a pain,” he said, reaching for an apron. 

“Oh it’s fine—“ Patton turned to face him, then dropped the bowl he was holding. “Oh my stars.... you look just like him...”

Virgil instinctively caught the bowl before it could spill. “Like Remus? Gods I hope not!”

Patton put his hand on Virgil’s cheek. “No. Like your father... you’re wearing his favorite tunic.” He smiled faintly, tears in his eyes. 

“Oh Pat...” He blushed under the makeup, then put down the bowl and swept the fatherly fairy up in a hug. “I miss him too.” He held Patton until the latter’s tears subsided, gently as if afraid the fairy would break in his arms.

Patton sniffled and eventually pulled away. “Our little boy growing up,” he said. 

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Time flies,” he muttered, putting on the apron to keep his father’s tunic clean. He crackled his knuckles, then glanced around the kitchen. “Okay, what do you need me to do?”

Patton sighed. “The Master insists on a multi-course feast.... which means we need meat,” he mumbled. 

Virgil put a hand on Patton’s shoulder. “You won’t need to touch it, I promise,” he said, his expression softening. “Just stay on this side of the kitchen and you won’t even need to look at it until it’s done, okay?”

Patton wiped his face on his sleeve. “You shouldn’t need to.... but thank you,” he said. 

Virgil kissed his forehead, then dove into preparing the meat, knowing Patton would cry or hurl if he saw the poor dead creature. 

“You deserve better than this, Virg,” Patton said after a few minutes. 

“We’ve been over this. Life isn’t fair,” Virgil retorted, chopping up the meat with a bit more force than necessary. “Never has been. Never will be.” He slid the chunks of meat into a pot. 

“B-But it should be.” 

Vigil turned to look at Patton, who seemed about to cry. He sighed. “I’m sorry. I wish things were better too, okay? But if I get my hopes up, that only means heartbreak later.”

Patton nodded. “I guess so....”

Virgil gave him a half-hearted thumbs up, then went back to making the stew. Not the fanciest dish, but he didn’t care. Patton wouldn’t go near the table if there was a roast swan or a full pig or anything else that still looked like its living form. 

Suddenly the kitchen went deathly quiet— which could only mean one thing. The master of the house cleared his throat. “Virgil. Come here now.”

Virgil exhaled sharply, then trudged over to his step father. “Yes?”

“Yes, what?”

Virgil clenched his jaw. “Yes, _sir_? What do you want?”

“I want you to stay out of sight until our guests leave. I don’t want them to know you exist. Is that clear?” His step father crossed his arms, glaring down at him. 

Virgil ducked his head to hide his grin, grateful for his long bangs. “I want” was not an order. “I want” didn’t trigger the curse. “I want” gave him _freedom_. “Perfectly clear, sir,” he piped up. 

His step father grunted, then left without another word. Virgil laughed when he was out of sight. 

Patton put a hand on his shoulder. “So.... what are you gonna do?” He asked quietly. “I can cover for you.”

Virgil smirked. “I’m gonna go play a prank on a prince,” he said. 

Patton bit his lip. “Be careful and stay safe,” he said. 

Those orders served as protection charms, and they both knew that by now. Virgil smiled and hugged him. “Thanks, pops,” he said. “You, too.” Then he was off, darting out the door before anyone could stop him. 


End file.
